The king of the courtDeath of local legend Cecil
Estes leaves a void for basketball fans.

By BRIAN NEUNER Special to the
Tribune,
Published Sunday, October 13, 2002There was a time in central
Missouri when a group of guys would gather and argue who was the greatest
area athlete of the 1980s. Friends from Fulton would throw out the
name Herbert "Junebug" Johnson. The Capital City crew would contribute
George Shorthose. Most of the Columbia contingent simply said Cecil,
and the argument often stopped there.
Cecil
Estes died Tuesday at age 37 after a lengthy illness.

I heard about Cecil two
years before I ever saw him play. He was 6-foot-5, but he might as well
have been 6-10, because that’s the way he played - bigger than everyone
else. My first basketball encounter with him actually took place in the
late 1970s at a junior high tournament in Columbia. In the first minute
of the first game, he blocked five shots. My team lost to Cecil that day.
He outscored all of us by himself. He might have had teammates, but I don’t
recall them being on the court.Columbia prep basketball was Cecil Estes,
and everyone knew it.

"He was the guy everyone wanted to watch,"
former Hickman player Brad Marcks said. "All the kids just wanted to play
like Cecil."

Brian Marcks was a Hickman teammate of Cecil’s
for two years.

"I just remember the first time I saw him dunk,"
he said. "It was after practice, and he did a reverse jam while wearing
his blue jeans."

Cecil was intimidating, but that was only when
he was on the court. Away from it, he was a different person.

"When he came to Hickman, we knew he was a
special talent," former Hickman Coach Phil Driskell said. "But he was also
very bashful. That was so noticeable."

In short, when Cecil wasn’t on the court, he
was insecure. When he spoke in that high-pitched whisper, you didn’t think
of him as a dominating athlete.

"When I think of Cecil, I just smile," Brian
Marcks said. "He was such a great teammate, such a great friend."

Driskell recalled a Hickman vs. Rock Bridge
game when Cecil was a sophomore. His older brother Rodney played for the
Bruins.

"That night, in a packed gym, those two brothers
put on a show as they went head to head," Driskell said. Rock Bridge won,
but Driskell called it "the most exciting game I ever coached."

By the time he was a junior at Hickman, the
whole state knew about Cecil. It was the 1981-82 season, and he led the
Kewpies to the state final four. North Carolina, Georgetown and Syracuse
recruited him throughout his senior season, but Cecil decided to stay in
Columbia and play at Missouri. It was a decision he would later call one
of the biggest mistakes of his life.

As a freshman, he played well against Michael
Jordan and North Carolina. He hit a buzzer-beater to defeat Iowa State.
But while his attention should have been focused on college basketball
and academics, he was still interested in being the king of the court in
Columbia. He was loyal and wanted to bring his friends and family along
for the ride. On an almost daily basis, Cecil would venture back to his
neighborhood and catch up with the fellas at Douglass Park. But while the
king was holding court, he was also ignoring his classes.

After one year at MU, he dropped out of school.

"If I had to do it all over again, I would
have gone away for school," he told me in a 1989 interview. "I should have
never stayed in Columbia. I spent too much time in the neighborhood and
not enough time in school."

I saw Cecil again while working on a television
series about street basketball in ’89. I started spending a lot of time
at Douglass Park. I arrived unannounced, and so did he. When you tote a
camera to a playground, attention follows. But it was nothing compared
to when Cecil showed up.

Excitement grew as he walked on the court.
Two teenagers ran toward him and explained why the camera was here. Cecil
looked at me, smiled and gave a nod. He was home. He was playing basketball.
He was happy.

One of the younger boys yelled at me, "Now
you’re going to see some real basketball. That’s Cecil Estes. He used to
play at Mizzou."

I realized that, in a strange way, it didn’t
matter that Cecil quit school. It didn’t matter that he didn’t go to the
NBA. To the people in the neighborhood, he was still the king of the court.

For the next two weeks, I spent almost every
evening at Douglass Park, taping games and taking in local lore. One night,
a special buzz was in the air. Three players with MU connections - Derrick
Chievous, Malcom Thomas and Doug Smith - were on one team. In the world
of asphalt and steel nets, this was the biggest game of the year.

Only the best talent was on the court, and
Cecil was right there. He was overweight but still had obvious talent.
He played harder than I ever saw him play at MU. He was being challenged
on his home court and did not want to be dethroned. The game ended with
Cecil stealing the ball, driving the length of the court and throwing home
a 360-degree jam. He looked back at the other players and simply said,
"Next."

When I heard the news of Cecil’s death, I had
an empty feeling. I couldn’t help but wonder what might have been.

"That’s the million-dollar question," Driskell
said.

Cecil was the only one with the answer. Sure,
he was disappointed in himself and his situation, but he chose to see the
positive.

"I want the little kids growing up in Columbia
to learn from me, know I made mistakes and what happened because of them,"
he said in that 1989 interview.

Noble words, but then again, they were coming
from a king.

from
the Columbia Daily Tribune--------------------------------------------------------------------------------Brian Neuner was the sports director at KOMU
from 1989-2000.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

LETTER
TO THE EDITORFormer classmate fondly remembers
Estes

Published Sunday, October 20, 2002I would like to thank Brian Neuner for writing
and the Tribune for publishing the nice article about Cecil Estes. It was
a fitting tribute to an outstanding Columbia athlete.

I had the opportunity to get to know Cecil
during the 1981-82 basketball season at Hickman High School. As a cheerleader,
I often accompanied the basketball team and coaches and other cheerleaders
on several bus trips for away games. Since many of those games were in
St. Louis or Kansas City, we had long rides home and time to visit. That
was a wonderful team, a magical season and a whole lot of fun.

Cecil intrigued me most not by his basketball
skills but by his shyness off the court. An outgoing person myself, I did
my best to draw him out. Over time it worked, and we became friends. I
was thrilled when he signed with MU because I would be able to continue
to watch him play. Only later did I realize this was a mistake, as Brian
pointed out in his article.

As it always seems to happen when you grow
up, you lose touch with those people from your youth. The past can seem
very distant.

That is why I was jolted from current, everyday
life back into time when I learned the stunning news of Cecil’s death.
Living in another town, I had no idea he was ill. The number of people
at his funeral did not stun me, though. It was a testament of his influence
on so many.

The thing I will always remember most about
Cecil is not his basketball prowess, but the kindness of his heart and
his gentle spirit. I feel fortunate to have known him and called him a
friend, even if it was so many years ago.

I am most saddened, however, that I didn’t
get to say goodbye.

from
the Columbia Daily Tribune--------------------------------------------------------------------------------Amy Sublett DeemHHS Class of ’82--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If you have a story or a
high school pictureyou would like to shareon this memorial page for Cecil
Estes,please contact me.